Widow on the Doorstep: In‑Laws Want Me Out

I smiled at my sister-in-law, Pamela Turner, and said evenly, "Thanks for the concern, Pamela. But I'm not worried about the gossip."

Her smile faltered at once, and irritation flashed in her eyes.

She was about to say more when her husband, Matthew Campbell—who had been silently eating the entire time—cleared his throat. "That's enough. We're eating. Why bring this up now?"

Pamela fell silent, glaring at me as she noisily clattered her utensils against her plate.

I ignored the looks they gave me. Without another word, I picked up my utensils and continued eating at an unhurried pace.

Just like that, the only sound at the table was the clinking of dishes and cutlery.

…

Late that night, I woke up parched and went to the living room for a glass of water.

As I passed Matthew and Pamela's bedroom, I heard voices inside.

"Can you believe her? Nothing gets through to her!"

Pamela's voice was sharp with anger as she continued, "I was thinking of clearing out her room for Holly. But now? She's obviously planning to stay and refuse to leave!"

"What else can we do?" Matthew replied in a low voice. "Noah just passed away. If we kick her out now, what will people say about us? The gossip would be relentless."

"But we can't just let her stay here without paying!"

Pamela raised her voice before she quickly lowered it again. "Your brother's gone. What's she still doing living here?"

At that, I tightened my grip on the glass.

Then, Matthew spoke again. "We can't just kick her out. We'll have to make her leave on her own. Go check tomorrow how much a bedroom rents around here.

"She can start paying rent next month. This apartment belongs to our family. We can't let her live here for free. Even if we can't throw her out yet, she can at least pay something."

"Charge her rent?" Pamela paused for a beat before bursting into laughter. "You always have a plan! But what if she refuses to pay?"

"Talk to Mom and have her back you up. She has always listened to her. She won't refuse," Matthew answered with a sneer.

Standing outside the door, I smiled to myself. They really knew how to play this game. They had been living here for free, eating my food, and using my things.

Now, they wanted me to pay rent and move out so their daughter, Holly Campbell, could take my room.

I turned and slowly walked back to my bedroom, the glass still in my hand.

Once inside, I pulled open the bottom drawer of my nightstand and took out the property deed. Then, I flipped it open to the first page, where my name was printed clearly—Veronica Bennett.

The apartment was bright and spacious, nearly 2,000 square feet, and located in a great neighborhood. My mom had bought it for me years ago, just before she moved abroad after getting married.

When Noah Campbell and I got married, I never asked him to buy another place. We had been living here all along.

In the second year of our marriage, Matthew and Pamela's business went under. With nowhere left to turn, they showed up at our door with Holly, crying and begging for help.

My mother-in-law, Lily Reed, stood beside them, wiping her tears.

Noah, soft-hearted as ever, pleaded with me to let them move in.

Back then, it felt crowded, with three generations all living under one roof. It wasn't convenient, so I suggested paying for a two-bedroom apartment nearby for them. That way, everyone could have their own space.

Yet, Pamela's expression darkened instantly.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Vera, but you really should learn to manage a household better," she said sarcastically. "We already have a home. What's wrong with a little squeezing? If there's room to live here, why waste money renting elsewhere?"